by Avery Laval
Marissa gasped at that. She couldn’t imagine any woman getting over Khalid that quickly. His wife must have been truly coldhearted. “How shameless.”
Khalid looked at her for a long moment, then turned and took his place across the table. “I’m surprised you, of all people, would think that,” he said coldly as he draped his napkin over his lap.
She set her jaw, determined to hold on to her equilibrium. “I don’t know what you mean by that. But I’m sorry that your marriage went so badly. Truly, I am. Even back then, I wanted you to be happy. That is why I let you go in the first place.”
He snorted. “Let me go? That’s an interesting way to put it.”
Marissa held tightly to her composure. “I wanted you to be with your family,” she said, insistently. “I knew how you’d longed to find out where you truly belonged. This was your one chance. I understood that, though it hurt. I wanted you to have what I have—a family you could always turn to, no matter what.” She paused, then forced herself to say what she’d come here to tell him. “But don’t think for a second that it didn’t break my heart.”
At that, Khalid locked eyes with her, and would not look away for a very long time, as if he were trying to see inside her, to read her mind. She thought of the way he’d always seemed to know what she was thinking back when they were together—how easy it had been for him to finish her sentences. Would he see through her just as easily now? See how much trouble she was having keeping her heart protected now that she was so near him again?
She shuddered and prayed not.
At last, Khalid broke his stare. He turned to the sideboard behind him and picked up a serving platter of bright pink salmon hunks tossed with preserved lemons, and another heaped with fluffy mashed potatoes. “Let’s eat,” he said, as if she hadn’t just spilled her heart out in front of him. “There’s a salad back here somewhere...ah. Strawberries, spinach, goat cheese, and mint,” he announced, and then reached for the salad tongs to serve her. Marissa decided to follow his lead and let the subject drop. Perhaps, like her, he was also having trouble keeping composure amongst all these painful memories. After all, he’d been through a divorce, she reminded herself. He was a single man again.
“Thank you,” she said, holding her plate up to make it easier for him to serve the vibrantly colored salad, pushing thoughts of his marital status out of her mind. “I must say, it can’t be the norm to get a private dinner with a sheikh. What happened to all those bodyguards and aides I saw you with at lunch?”
Khalid’s face bent into a slight frown, and he shook his head. “Believe me, I’m quite happy to have an excuse to be rid of them for the night. I’m sure their tongues are wagging about you and me, but it’s well worth it to have a moment’s privacy.”
“I take it privacy is an uncommon resource in your new lifestyle?”
“Very.”
Marissa took a bite of her salad and paused to savor the flavor of smooth cheese melding with mint and berries. It was heaven. When she swallowed, she asked, “I’m not getting you in trouble, then, am I?”
“Hardly. In fact, dismissing the staff for the evening is probably the best thing I could be doing for my image right now. I’ve been criticized for being too stern. Working too much. Apparently I’m not ‘fun’ enough for public opinion.”
Marissa laughed at this. “Not fun enough! That can hardly be the case. Remember that night in Vegas when the temperature rose so high that it was too hot to sleep? How you took me to that country club pool at midnight and showed me how to climb the fence?”
A tiny smile broke out on Khalid’s face, starting with a curve of the lips and then moving up to the wrinkles around his eyes. “How could I forget?” he replied, sounding just as fond of the memory as Marissa was. “The cool water was such a relief after a week of record highs. And it was so dark out there, we could even see a few stars.”
How perfectly she remembered that day. He’d refused to tell her where they were going, and so she hadn’t brought anything to swim in. At first, when she saw the pool, she’d balked, but then he, along with the heat, had persuaded her to throw caution to the wind and they’d both leapt into the pool in nothing but their underwear, laughing and splashing like children. And then, when he’d swum toward her to point out the twinkling sight of Venus peeking through the dim glow of the city, she’d wrapped her arms and legs around him and pretended she couldn’t see it, just to keep him so close. In the end, the episode hadn’t managed to actually cool them down at all. But it had been one of the best evenings of her life.
Khalid seemed to be recalling the same things, because his smile faded, and his expression grew more intense, as though his thoughts were far away. In that moment, Marissa felt like not a day had passed since their separation. Their connection was as strong as ever.
Then he shook his head, inhaling deeply. “We’re lucky we got away with it. Think if the future prince of Rifaisa had been caught breaking and entering.”
Marissa saw the wistful look in his eyes and let herself reach for his hand across the table, rest hers gently over it. “You must be burdened with so many responsibilities now,” she said. “I can’t imagine what it would be like. But it must be rewarding, too, to be trusted by so many people.”
Khalid nodded, not moving his hand. “It is. Vastly. It is what I was born to do.” Then he pulled his hand away and used it to lift a forkful of potatoes to his mouth.
For a few moments, they both turned to their plates. The food was spectacular, every bite perfectly seasoned and cooked, but Marissa soon stopped tasting it, lost in her thoughts of the man sitting across from her. In some ways he was so much like the Khalid she’d once loved—sometimes so quick to show his emotion, other times mysterious, but always one hundred percent focused on the person he was with. But in other ways he had changed—grown up a great deal in such a short time. Though he’d had big professional goals before, now he was helping to rule a wealthy nation in a tumultuous part of the world. The stakes were high, and stress would be his daily companion. And yet his only complaint was about the lack of privacy. The same old Khalid, yet somehow different. Stronger.
What had not changed even in the slightest was the chemistry between them. When they’d first met, it had sizzled like butter melting in a hot pan. As they’d fallen in love, it had only grown more fierce. And in bed, it had been as powerful as a lightning bolt. When they made love the first time, she’d wondered if she’d dreamed it, it had been so intense and surreal. And now, even after three years, she still woke in the middle of the night from dreams of him to find her sheets damp with sweat and the familiar moistness between her legs. What she wouldn’t have given, in all this time, to have that passion back, even just for one night. And now, he was here, so close, just a dining table away from her, and though she knew she should be telling him everything she’d come here to tell him and then moving on with her life, she wanted much more than a conversation. Wanted him, even if only for one last time.
She forced herself to tamp down those thoughts and concentrate on chewing, swallowing, and ignoring the rush she felt every time she looked up from her plate and found his eyes fixed on hers. When she gave up on food and pushed her plate away, the old lighthearted Khalid surfaced once again. “Come,” he said, dropping his fork to his plate with a clatter and tossing his napkin aside. “Let’s have dessert on the balcony.”
Outside, in the warm humid air of Cairo, Khalid felt some of the tension between them diffuse slightly and was vastly relieved. He’d been annoyed from the moment she’d arrived at his door to discover that instead of the bitterness and cold he usually felt when he thought of her, he was overcome with a desire he’d assumed was long dead. Leave it to Marissa Madden to show up to a “closure dinner” looking so goddamned beautiful. She’d always had a talent for dressing in conservative clothing and yet looking tantalizing at the same time. The first time he’d seen her she’d been in a suit jacket and trousers and looked sexier than most women did in
lingerie. Tonight, in that fitted outfit of frilly blouse and abbreviated skirt, she seemed miles long and unbearably feminine. His first thought had been to put his fingers in that curly bun of hers and shake it down over her shoulders, so he could wrap her long, dark hair in his hands and see if it still smelled of vanilla and ginger the way he remembered.
Of course, he’d done no such thing. His intent was for her to be taken off guard, not him. So he’d forced a light smile and sat down to dinner with her, trying not to let her do the thing she’d always done, where with a few of her soft smiles and understanding comments he found himself telling her everything on his mind. He could sit stone-faced through massive financial dealings with leaders of state now. He could certainly get through a dinner with an ex-lover without spilling his guts.
But for one moment tonight, he wished he didn’t have to keep it all inside. Wished that when she took his hand and spoke to him about the trust his people had in him, he could have told her how much he had trusted her, and how it had felt when she’d betrayed that trust.
No. He would never let her know how much she’d hurt him.
“One second,” she said, heading back inside the suite. She returned with a candelabra that minutes earlier had been sitting, unused, on one of the various side tables inside his suite. “It’s too dark out here,” she said by way of explanation. “I have to see what I’m eating.”
The air was dead still. He took the box of matches from her and lit the candles, one by one, and watched the light flicker across the balcony and over her face as she sat down at the small bistro table and angled her chair toward the view. “Do you know how amazing this is, Khalid?” she asked, her eyes filling with wonder. “To be dining with the pyramids in the background? I mean, you must see things like this all the time. But you don’t take it for granted. Promise me.”
Khalid took nothing for granted. No one who’d grown up in the foster-care system ever could. But then, he reminded himself, he almost had once with Marissa. He had been so sure of her love for him. And he’d been so surprised to discover how fickle her feelings had truly been.
“I know,” Khalid said, ignoring his own train of thought and pushing down the irritation. “It’s spectacular. And the sight from my balcony at home is just as amazing. It’s my favorite place in the palace.”
As if she could imagine it herself, she closed her eyes and sighed. Then her eyes popped open again playfully. “But do you have desserts like this at the palace?” she asked. “These figs are amazing.” She spooned up a mouthful of the ruddy fruit and syrup and slipped it into her mouth like it was her last meal on earth. “Mmm.”
Something about the sight of her taking that bite—so slow and sensual that he felt himself stir below—pushed Khalid’s brimming annoyance over into full-blown irritation.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he said abruptly, setting his own spoon to the side with disinterest. “But the time has come for you to tell me what you needed to tell me so badly. When I saw you earlier today, you seemed so desperate to talk to me. Now you’re sitting here on my balcony lighting candles and lingering over dessert like we’re having a romantic date. Which we’re not.”
Marissa blinked, clearly surprised at his outburst. Even he knew it was somewhat uncalled for. But how could he possibly explain what he really wanted: her out of his suite before his anger toward her was completely overwhelmed by desire.
“I’m sorry,” she said, also pushing her dessert bowl away. “You’re right. And it’s getting late. We both have big days ahead of us, no doubt.”
At this Khalid only nodded, keeping his gruff demeanor as armor.
Marissa went on. “The thing is, you caught me by surprise earlier, when you told me your marriage had ended. I needed some time to gather my thoughts.”
“And now?”
“And now I’m not sure they’re any clearer than they were when you first broke the news,” she said warily. “I came here to tell you, among other things, how badly I’d been hurt when I found out you were getting married. I know we had fallen out of communication for a few months—and there was a very good reason for that, I promise—but still the news came as a terrible blow to me back then.”
Khalid tried not to scoff. He knew exactly what her “very good reason” was, and had no interest in discussing that humiliation further. “I’m sorry if you were surprised when I moved on,” he barked coldly. “But I did what I had to do.”
Marissa shook her head. “Please let me finish. I said that I meant to tell you how much I felt betrayed when you married. But now that I know everything about the situation—” She paused for a moment, searching his face for something, and he tried to keep it a mask of disinterest. “The thing is, I didn’t know that what we had between us would still feel so real, even after all this time. It makes me wonder if, maybe, finding each other in Cairo was no accident. Maybe we were meant to be together tonight.”
Khalid groaned at this, let his head tip back in his chair. Why did she have to make this so impossible for him? Any man could see she was beautiful, and sexy as hell. He wanted nothing more than to have her again. And then she sat there, her body just feet from his, babbling on about what was meant to be? As if she had never betrayed him, never broken all those promises?
He balled his hands into fists, uncertain what to do. He could send her away—that seemed surely the smartest move.
Or he could enjoy her body, one last time. Take her as his again, and with the act, chase out the demons of the past she seemed to bring with her. Even the way she was looking at him now, her eyes uncertain, her lips pressed together, he recognized the attraction and longing shimmering within. She would enjoy every moment of their passion. Almost as much as he would.
He cursed softly, under his breath. “Marissa,” he said, his voice thick as he rose and moved to stand above her chair. “We can’t be together again—not the way we were. Surely you understand. I have responsibilities you could never be a part of.” After all, he would need to be able to trust the woman he let into his life. He would never again trust this one. “But you can’t sit there and look so incredibly tempting and tell me you feel it all coming back and expect me not to want you.”
He moved a step back, and then took her by her hand and lifted her out of her seat, so that she stood mere inches from him. “And I do want you,” he growled.
And then, his body took over, and he lowered his head and captured her lips in a fiery kiss.
At first, Marissa did nothing, afraid to move and risk ending the kiss, afraid to kiss back and risk acquiescing to something she knew wasn’t right. Here was the man who had left her behind, and then, when she’d been at her lowest, married someone else.
Here was a man who could melt her from the inside out with just one kiss.
It was hopeless. She kissed him back, and let all reason slip away.
His lips were full and soft, just as she’d remembered them. His kiss was insistent, demanding, and it filled her with desire. She pressed back, then let him break away for a moment only to angle his head and kiss her even more deeply. She felt his hands grip her shoulders and yank her closer to him, and she realized her arms had been hanging limply by her sides all this time. It was as if she’d lost control of her body. Ceded it over to him.
Now, pressed to him and held there by his strong hands, she felt the memories of every kiss they’d ever shared mingle with the sensation of this one, making her dizzy. His mouth opened and hers with it, and he ran his tongue slowly along hers, a taunting action that promised so much more. Urging him on, she snaked her fingers up the silken weave of his sweater, and then, when that sensation wasn’t enough, lowered them again to slip underneath the hem and press them against the bare skin on his back. It was like running her fingers over one of the pristine marble artifacts she’d seen in the museum—the muscles firm, the skin of his back perfectly smooth, and the sensation that she was doing something forbidden overwhelming. Intoxicating.
A
s he nibbled at her lips, teased her with his tongue, she let herself fall further into the fantasy she’d had so many nights, the fantasy that, just for this moment, was becoming real. Every inch of her front, from to tops of her legs up her pelvis and to her breasts, was pushed tightly against him, heated by his body, feeling the rise and fall of his breath as if it were her own. She felt his arousal grow and knew her own would be just as apparent if he were to slide one of his large, warm hands up her bare leg, underneath her skirt. The thought of that happening was too much, and she shuddered slightly. He stopped his kiss for a moment, locked eyes with her, and dipped back for her lips even more intensely than before. He had seen the need in her eyes, of that she had no doubt.
Now his hands were in her hair, tugging it down from the precarious twist it had been in, and she felt it tumble across her shoulders. He reached for it and pulled his lips from hers to cup a mass of hair in his hands and bring it to his nose, inhaling as deeply as if it were a bunch of flowers. The gesture was so incredibly intimate that it stopped her in her tracks.
“Wait,” she said, pulling her body away from his with anguish. “What’s happening?”
Khalid opened his hand and let her dark hair slide through his fingers. He ran his hand up the side of her cheek and cupped her chin. “Habibti,” he murmured softly, a word Marissa had never heard before. It sounded seductive, but then what wouldn’t have in his throaty whisper? “It’s been so long since I’ve had you in my arms. Stay here, just for tonight.” He tilted her face up, forcing her to look into his heavy-lidded eyes and see the desire reflected back at her within them.
